


Impressions Novelized

by Minnicoops



Series: Impressions 'Verse [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25993048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minnicoops/pseuds/Minnicoops
Summary: A novelized form of the audio drama "Impressions" by Scott Andrews. My take on the events before, during, and after Lorne went a little crazy and held up his commanding officer at gunpoint, from multiple perspectives.
Series: Impressions 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024734
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is based on the audio-drama “Impressions,” originally written by Scott Andrews and performed by Kavan Smith and Nicholas Briggs. I definitely don't own Stargate, or the characters, or most of this story line... I just wrote this for funsies, no copyright infringement intended.
> 
> A/N: If you read my story Riddles in the Dark and are hoping for the sequel, this is not that. This is the side project that I got distracted by... Lorne is one of my favorite characters (could you tell from my other stories?) and Impressions is his episode we never got on the screen. This is written as the events are taking place so that I could add in some extra perspectives, which you'll see in subsequent chapters. If you've listened to Impressions, you'll recognize most of the dialogue since I kept that pretty close, but I tried to add a new angle on the rest of the story. Anyway, hope you enjoy this, and if you haven't listened to the original, go do it!

“I've painted this city from every angle - inside, outside, day, night. I suppose you could say I'm trying to tell its story.”

-Major Evan Lorne

*****

Atlantis was the kind of place that didn’t have a bad side. Any angle you looked at her, the city was gorgeous. The gray spires, interspersed with stained glass, rivaled any cathedral on earth. The light reflected off each delicate feature, highlighting the intricacy that had gone into the architect’s design. Shadows teased the mysteries hiding beneath them, promising to reveal a brand new image of the city every time the sun moved or the weather changed.

Evan Lorne had seen some amazing sights in his life, but none captured him quite the way Atlantis did. While everyone appreciated her beauty, he was _obsessed_ with her, couldn’t stop himself from gazing at her every chance he got. 

When he had first been transferred a little over two years ago, he made the mistake of only bringing a few of his art supplies: his sketchbook, his watercolors, a few odds and ends things. After all, it had been years since he really had any time to indulge his hobby. He had been in the city for less than a month before he decided that the next time he went home, he would dedicate his entire allotted luggage on the return trip to as many pencils and paints and brushes and canvases and whatever else he could fit. This city begged to be painted, needed to have her story told, and he would make the time to do it.

He was surprised by how quickly he had picked it back up after years of letting his painting muscles atrophy. The first few tries were a little rough, yes, but soon the strokes became as easy as breathing, like they had been when he was a kid and spent the weekends painting California landscapes with his mom. 

He didn’t paint all the time, there was rarely a quiet moment in Atlantis, and being the second-in-command of the military didn’t leave a whole lot of free time. But at least a couple times a month, he trekked out to one of the balconies or found a quiet corner for an afternoon to let the perfect way the city reflected off the sea drown out the stress of the Pegasus Galaxy.

Today, he had chosen a balcony off the jumper bays on the central tower. It was one of the best spots in Atlantis, providing a view of the entire city laid out beneath him. Ever since they had moved to this new planet, he had been working on capturing this new side of her, the subtle differences in colors and shades that this planet created. The ocean was just a little bit darker, more of a cobalt than Lantea’s seas. The light here was different as well, casting deeper shadows, and sometimes when the satellites aligned just right, he swore there was a flash of yellow.

Colonel Sheppard didn’t see it. In fact, Evan didn’t think anyone else really thought of Atlantis in the same way that he did. They thought it was beautiful, sure, but to them it was just a building sitting on the water. He had briefly tried to explain it to Sheppard once, looking out over the clear expanse of azure sky, telling him about how different the city looked now that they had moved. Sheppard just gave him one of those looks that he used on McKay when he was over-explaining something that should have a simple yes or no answer. 

“We’re still in the middle of an ocean,” he had said, as if Evan had said the water was red and the sky orange. “Looks the same to me.” 

After that, Evan gave up trying to explain his artist’s eye to anyone else. To them, all his paintings were magnificent, but he knew he still hadn’t managed to figure out the perfect combination of colors to do the city justice.

He was in the middle of mixing another iteration of gray, trying to capture the almost muddy-like shadows against the central spire without adding too much blue, when suddenly the light changed. The city below him started to glow like it was luminescent or radioactive or something. He frowned, vaguely wondering if they were under attack.

And then his senses reeled as if he had been hit by something. The world started to spin, and he felt light-headed. It was like he could suddenly _hear_ the city, all the sounds that were usually just background noise filling his mind. He could hear the machinery, the pipes, footsteps of people moving around. He heard every voice all at once. It was _deafening._

And then it stopped.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying on his back, wondering what had just happened. For a moment, all of his senses had gone crazy, like his brain had been rewired. Everything had gotten flipped; light was dark, down was up, soft was hard. And he could taste hot dogs. What? 

Taking a couple of breaths, he gathered himself and pushed himself up off the floor.

He froze when he saw his canvas.

It was covered in mad swirls of paint, the colors mixed together sloppily, as if a child had slapped it on and smeared it around with their hands. And then he noticed the paint caked on his own hands, and his eyes went wide. “What the...” he murmured, his heart beating faster. Had he painted that? 

He stared at it, forcing himself to keep calm and think about what to do. He didn’t really want to go to the infirmary, but he probably should. Two years in the Pegasus Galaxy, plus a few years at the SGC before that, had taught him two things: One, weird shit happened all the time, and two, there was no such thing as using too much caution when it did.

Luckily, he didn’t run into too many people on the way back to his quarters; he didn’t want to explain why he was covered in paint. Once he got his painting supplies organized and put away and cleaned himself up, he almost changed his mind about going to the infirmary. But glancing at the painting again, he sighed and resolved to just go. The worst that could happen would be that there was nothing wrong with him and he would look stupid. Or he could be dying or being controlled by an alien entity. Better to just go.

He hesitated again outside the infirmary door, already feeling like an idiot for worrying over what was probably nothing. He realized he would have had no problem coming down here if Beckett were still around, but he didn’t know Doctor Keller very well. She was just kind of in the background, quiet and nervous. He had interacted with her on a few occasions, never very closely, but she didn’t inspire much confidence. 

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head at himself, he walked in the door and found her in her office. “Hey, Doc,” he said. “Got a minute?”

“Sure,” she answered, turning towards him from her computer. “What can I do for you, Major?”

“Uh, well.” He rubbed at the back of his head awkwardly. How to explain this so he didn’t sound like an insane person? “I’ve been feeling kind of... odd.” Eloquent. 

She creased her brow. “Odd how?”

He sighed again, already regretting this. “I don’t know,” he said, and it came out with more irritation than he intended. What did he expect, for her to read his mind? “Just...” He waved his hand vaguely, “odd.” He could tell from her look that she needed a bit more to go on. “I felt kind of dizzy earlier and then I fell over.”

“Like, passed out?” she pressed.

He shrugged, just wanting to get this over without a lot of fuss. “Can I just get a scan?” 

She gave him a hard look, pursing her lips, and he felt even more like an idiot. “Sure,” she responded shortly, and brushed past him out of her office toward the scanner. 

He rolled his eyes at himself; this was going great. 

Leading him across the infirmary, she patted the bed underneath the scanner. “Hop on up.”

He laid down on the bed and waited as the familiar beams of light washed over him. Even though he had half convinced himself that absolutely nothing was wrong with him, the other half was anxiously awaiting bad news. What if he had been taken over by some kind of alien? Or what if it was something more normal, but just as dangerous, like a brain tumor or something? He was not the kind of person to worry, but whatever had happened on that balcony had freaked him out.

“Well,” Keller said as the scan finished. “Everything looks normal. Except... Huh.”

“What?” he asked, swinging his legs over the bed while he sat up.

“You said you felt dizzy and fell over earlier?” 

“Yeah,” he prompted.

She pointed to a colorful patch on the picture of his brain on the screen. “Well there’s some strange readings from your hippocampus.” At his worried expression she explained. “It’s the part of the brain that controls spatial awareness. Could account for a dizzy spell.”

Evan took this in, not sure what to make of it. He was probably fine, right? Keller didn’t seem too concerned, so he supposed he shouldn’t be either.

“I could run some more tests...”

“No, forget it,” he said, standing up to leave. “It’s nothing.” He could tell she was just humoring him. This had been a waste of time, and it hadn’t made him feel any better.

He hurried out of the infirmary as fast as he could, not looking back at Keller’s confused expression. If anything, the visit to the infirmary had made him feel worse, more on edge. 

Even though Keller had said nothing was wrong with him, he felt weird. Maybe it was psychosomatic, but he felt like his feet weren’t quite touching the ground as he walked. And his senses still felt too strong, like the lights were too bright, the sound too loud, the smells too... Smelly. 

He wasn’t hungry but decided that maybe food would help, or at least wouldn’t hurt, and headed to the mess hall. Today was pasta day and he loved the pasta here. Atlantis actually had a surprisingly good commissary staff, and the _Daedalus_ had been in recently as well, which meant they had a fresh shipment of ingredients from Earth. Which meant the pasta sauce was made with real sun-dried tomatoes, just like his Nan used to make.

He grabbed a cup of juice and some jello (because when in the mess hall, one always gets jello) and sat down at an empty table off to the side. Taking a bite of the pasta, he was dismayed to discover it tasted like hot dogs. He took another bite, hoping it was a fluke, but no. It was like he was at the ball park. The juice and the jello were the same. 

He lost any semblance of an appetite. He didn’t even like hot dogs that much, and it was more than a little disturbing to eat hot dog flavored jello. But he felt like everyone in the room was watching him, waiting for him to do something wrong. He could feel his heart pounding, could feel the sweat rolling down his back. He had to act normal, so he forced himself to keep on eating.

Evan jumped when Rodney McKay dropped into the seat across from him. He seemed like he had come out of nowhere, and why had he decided to sit here? Glancing around the room, Evan saw that most of the tables were empty and realized it was kind of an odd hour for a meal. On a normal day, Evan wouldn’t mind sharing a meal with McKay. They weren’t necessarily friends but they got along well enough. But today, he didn’t want company, he just wanted to be left alone. 

The good thing about McKay was that he was fairly oblivious to anyone or anything but himself, and he didn’t seem to notice that Evan was radiating nervous energy. He started talking a mile and minute, more at Evan than with him, which was totally fine with the major. He nodded and interjected politely, but he really wasn’t paying any attention to what the scientist was saying.

McKay was talking about his day, something about having a problem solving some technical thing in one of the labs. “...But of course, it wasn’t my fault because there was that power surge and everything went screwy.”

“Power surge?” Evan interrupted, the words catching his attention.

McKay stopped short, floundering at having his train of thought broken. Closing his mouth, he stared at Evan like he had just asked the stupidest question he had ever heard. “Uhh, the one that shut everything down for ten seconds a couple hours ago? What, were you asleep?”

Evan ignored his tone, used to McKay treating him like an idiot child. “What time was that?” He was afraid he already knew the answer.

“11:42,” McKay said flippantly, taking a giant bite of blue jello.

That was the exact time that Evan had passed out or had his seizure or whatever the hell it had been. “So what was it?” he asked, trying to sound casual even though his heart was hammering in his ears. “An attack? A glitch?”

“Hm,” McKay grunted, his mouth still full. “Power loop feedback error. The systems were realigning to the new environment.” He waved a hand. “No big deal, everything’s fine now.”

Evan felt sick to his stomach. What if the power surge and what had happened to him were connected? What if it had been some kind of Wraith weapon, and he had somehow been hijacked and was now a threat to Atlantis? The blood drained from his face as he thought about it, but reason told him it just didn’t make sense. All he had done was make some kind of crazy finger-painting. That was hardly threatening to the safety of the city.

The thought of trying to finish his still mostly uneaten plate of food made him feel even more sick, so he excused himself. He felt awful, his heart still thumping too loudly and his palms so sweaty he could hardly hold the tray to return it. He needed to lie down, sleep this off. He was sure he would feel better in the morning.

He didn’t even bother to fully undress when he got to his quarters, just kicked off his boots and threw his jacket on the chair before he flopped onto the bed. He was asleep within seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

Some days, John actually got to drink a cup of coffee before his day turned to shit. Apparently, this was not one of those days. From the moment he had woken up, he had been putting out fires, from the science department’s inability to fix whatever problem was happening in Rodney’s lab to some kind of issue with the walk-in freezer in the kitchen. Carter and McKay had both gone off world early this morning to fiddle with some Ancient device, leaving him as the go-to person to help everyone with their problems.

He had finally gotten into his office to check his email when Captain Kennedy knocked and stuck his head in the already open door. “Colonel Sheppard?”

John waved him into the office. “What’s up, Captain?”

“Sir,” Kennedy said a bit awkwardly, barely entering before he stood stiffly at attention. He hadn’t been here long enough to catch on to the relaxed atmosphere John tried to cultivate. “Major Lorne didn’t show up for our meeting this morning.”

John glanced at the time on his computer screen. 0924. Frowning, he clicked on the calendar the command staff used to keep track of the million things each of them had going on day-to-day. It wasn’t like Lorne to miss a meeting, the guy was annoyingly prompt and never flaked on a task, but maybe he had moved it and somehow the communication got lost. 

His frown deepened when he saw that, indeed, Lorne was slated for a meeting with Kennedy and the other captains from 0900-1100 this morning. “Huh,” he said, puzzled. He tapped his radio. “Major Lorne, this is Sheppard. What’s your location?”

He got no response, so he tried a second time as Kennedy shifted his weight slightly, obviously uncomfortable that he had tattled on a superior officer.

A minute later a very groggy Lorne finally responded. _“Yes, Colonel?”_

“Lorne,” he said, not sure if he was worried or amused that he had clearly woken the man up. “I’ve got Kennedy here wondering why you stood him up for your morning meeting.”

_“Sorry, I must have...”_ Lorne trailed off, sounding confused. _“Uh, I better call you back, sir,”_ he said, ending the conversation abruptly.

John furrowed his brow. That had been odd. He dismissed Kennedy, saying Lorne had probably just forgotten to set his alarm, which they both knew was a load of crap because John was pretty sure Lorne was one of those people who didn’t even use an alarm and still woke up on time every day. Standing, John decided he should go check in with his XO, make sure everything was okay.

He didn’t make it very far before Lorne called him back. _“Colonel Sheppard?”_

“Lorne.” John stopped walking. 

_“Uh, sorry, sir. I don’t think I’m fit for duty today.”_

He had never called in sick before, even a couple of times that he probably should have, so it was weird to John that he was making the request now. But he did sound off somehow, like he wasn’t quite himself, so maybe that was it. Something about the whole exchange bothered John, but he was probably just reading into it too much. People got sick sometimes, even in the Pegasus Galaxy. “Okay, yeah. Need anything?”

There was a pause before Lorne responded. _“No, sir, I’m okay. Thanks.”_

“Sure. Get some rest, Major.” John switched directions, deciding he would head up to Operations instead.

*****

Evan took his earpiece off and dropped it back on the bedside table, eyes never leaving the canvases before him. There were about twenty of them, almost every canvas he had, strewn about the room, and they were all covered in mad swatches and swirls of paint with strange symbols scratched into them. And not just the canvases. His entire room was covered in paint, the walls, the ceiling, even himself. He must have used every drop of paint he had. Watercolors, oils, acrylics... To say he was freaked out was a massive understatement.

He’d been woken up by his radio, having fallen asleep yesterday afternoon and been dead to the world since. But apparently, he hadn’t been quite as asleep as he had thought, because when he woke he was bombarded with the paintings he had evidently done in his sleep. He had barely held it together long enough to tell Sheppard he was taking a sick day; his throat was so tight he could hardly get the words out. What was happening to him?

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at the paintings, studying every curl and dot and line of color. His eyes refused to look away, hardly even blinked as he took them in. For as freaked out as he was, he had to admit they were powerful. Haunting. Emotional. 

He had only ever felt this lost in a painting once before, on a trip he had taken through Europe visiting all the famous art museums. It had been the experience of a lifetime for him, his graduation present from his mom. He had seen some amazing pieces on that trip, had sat in front of many of them for hours, but only one had truly sucked him in, made him lose time just staring at it. 

He had seen it in Amsterdam at the Van Gogh Museum; The Potato Eaters. For some reason, he had been completely enamored with the simple picture. Maybe it was the colors, Van Gogh’s unique way of capturing more than just what the eye could see. There was a woman in the painting, a peasant cutting a potato, and for some reason, when he looked at her he could feel such a sense of longing, of loneliness, of hope... He had zoned out when he first saw it, totally lost in her eyes. He had never felt that way with any other painting, and he had seen a lot of them.

But now, in his quarters, he was reliving that experience. That total obliviousness to the world around him. These were the only thing that mattered. And as he gazed at the paintings along the walls, on the ceiling, he began to get impressions. They weren’t really feelings or visions or anything like that. Just... glimpses of something. Like he was trying to remember something on the tip of his tongue, but couldn’t quite spit it out.

One of them made him feel like when he was a kid and would play in the waves of the Pacific until he was soggy and cold, and then lay in the warm sand and let the sun dry him off. Another was the loneliness that he had experienced when his cousin died, except it was deeper than that, more painful. The one next to that reminded him of an aching hunger. Still another was the pain of being separated from everyone he knew and loved. 

Some of them he couldn’t even describe _that_ well. There was one that was like a sense of home, or maybe a longing for it. Like if a fish was on dry land gasping for air and dreaming of being back in the sea. As if he knew where he should be, remembered what if felt like to be there, but wasn’t there now.

Eventually, he came back to himself, remembering somewhere in his foggy mind that if he took sick leave he was required to check in with either Keller or Heightmeyer. Since he had already done the Keller thing, and that had been so helpful, he decided Kate would be his best bet. It did seem like he was losing his mind, after all. She had helped Teyla when she was hallucinating, so maybe she could do something for him, too.

He dug through his closet, finding some turpentine to scrub the paint off his face, hands, arms... Really, every exposed part of him. He even found it in his hair. It was all over his clothes, too, which he would probably just have to throw out. Once he showered and got himself cleaned up, he headed out to visit the doctor, hoping she might have some answers.

*****

Kate Heightmeyer kept a busy schedule. One psychiatrist for a city of over 200 people who lived and worked under constant threat from aliens and other dangers was really not enough, but she still made sure to block out a portion of her schedule daily for drop-ins. About half of the time, these office hours were spent catching up on the ever growing pile of paperwork she accumulated, but the other half, someone stopped in needing some form of counseling. Today, that individual was Major Lorne.

Kate had always liked Evan. He was friendly and easy-going, and most of all, he didn’t fight counseling like so many of the other soldiers. In fact, he often showed up when he wasn’t required to, just to talk about how things were going. Out of all the people on Atlantis she had counseled, she had to say that Evan was one of the most emotionally aware individuals here, dealt with stress in a healthy way, and was entirely the last person she would ever expect to have some kind of psychotic break.

When he showed up at her office today, she could tell something was very off about him from the moment he walked in the door. He paced across the office, wringing his hands and biting his lip in a nervous tic she had never seen from him before. She got up from her desk and motioned to the pair of chairs over by the balcony, trying not to let too much of her worry bleed onto her face. He hadn’t been on any missions lately, so what had happened that had him so worked up?

He couldn’t sit still, kept fidgeting in his chair, bouncing his leg and drumming on his knees with his fingers. He even looked unwell, pale and sweaty, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Kate wondered if he had gotten any sleep recently.

“What’s going on, Evan?” she asked, opening up the floor for him to share what was bothering him.

He flicked his eyes up at her, but then picked a spot on the floor to stare at while he talked. “Umm, well. It’s just...” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and she could see the internal struggle her patients often had with themselves when they were about to share something hard to say out loud. “I, uh, I had a kinda weird thing happen to me,” he started. “Yesterday. I was painting on the balcony above the jumper bay and all of a sudden, the city looked like it was glowing or something, and then I guess I kinda blacked out. And when I came to,” he paused here and took another deep breath, “when I came to I had painted this really weird thing. Like just slapped paint on the canvas and swirled it all around.” 

The last part came out in a rush, like he was trying to get it out before he lost his nerve. He glanced up at her, trying to judge her reaction. She kept it neutral, taking in the information but not commenting on it. From the way he was picking at an invisible thread on the seam of the chair, she guessed there was more he wanted to get out. “Is that all?” she prompted.

He shook his head once and bit his lip. “I went to Keller to get checked out, and she said I was fine. But then later I went back to my quarters to sleep, you know. Figured I was just stressed or something. And when I woke up, there were paintings everywhere. All over my quarters. On the ceiling. The walls. Everywhere.” He shuddered. “It was kind of freaky.”

She thought for a moment about how she should respond. He was clearly distressed by whatever had happened, and rightly so. They both knew of the long list of strange things that had already happened in both the Milky Way and Pegasus Galaxies, and that there were infinitely more possibilities for inexplicable occurrences such as this. She guessed his main concern was likely that he had somehow been compromised and could pose a danger to others in Atlantis, but she also sensed the fear of losing control of himself. Not to mention the possibility of losing his position, or even the potential of dying if it was some kind of medical problem.

His eyes finally met hers, blue and wide and confused at what was happening to him. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the city-wide alarm going off.

The second the alarm went off, it was like a jolt of electricity went through him. His entire body went rigid; his eyes, still fixed on her, going wide with terror. He squeezed them shut and drops of blood leaked out. “Evan?” she called out in shock. 

His body began to spasm, more blood seeping out of his eyes, and now his nose and mouth and ears, too. “Oh my God, Evan!” She snapped out of her shock and hit her radio, calling for an emergency containment team. She stood, wanting more than anything to go to him and help him, but thoughts of hemorrhagic diseases made her keep her distance. It wouldn’t do her any good to expose herself to a potentially fatal illness when there wasn’t much she could even do to help. And so she watched helplessly as his body continued to seize, praying the team got here before it was too late.

The seizure seemed to last forever, but after a few minutes, the convulsions died down and his body went limp in the chair. 

“Evan?” she tried again, as he stirred.

His eyes opened and searched the room, confusion evident in them, and he raised a hand to them, wiping the blood across his cheek. “What-?” he whispered, looking at his hand. 

“Just hang on, Evan,” Kate said, holding up her hands in a calming gesture. “A medical team is on the way.”

He sat up a little more and frowned. “N-No. I-I don’t need a medical team.” His voice was shaky. “I just had a vision. I was... I was Atlantis.” He started to get up.

“Evan, stay there, okay?” she implored. “You’re sick. You’re bleeding.”

He ignored her, pushing himself up on shaking legs. “It’s okay, Kate. I’m fine.” 

Just then the medical team entered, wearing HAZMAT suits and carrying all kinds of gear. “Kate,” Jennifer greeted grimly. “What’s going on here?”

Evan’s agitation increased dramatically as soon as he spotted the medical team. “He just had a seizure and blood started pouring out of his face,” Kate explained in as calm a tone as she could manage, trying to conceal how shaken she was by what had just happened.

Evan was backing away, breathing faster and holding his hands out defensively. “I’m not sick. Kate, tell them! I’m fine!” His blood stained eyes were wide with terror. She had never seen him like this.

“Major Lorne, it’s okay,” Jennifer said calmly, holding up her medical scanner in one hand and a motioning to the nurse for something with the other. “We’re here to help you.”

“Nononono,” he muttered, shaking his head and continuing his backwards shuffle. He was headed out to the balcony, and Kate’s stomach clenched in fear. With how irrational he was being right now, she didn’t want him anywhere near that railing. “Leave me alone!”

“His hormone levels are through the roof,” Jennifer said quietly to the nurse trading her a syringe for the scanner. Turning back toward her patient, she began to approach him slowly. “Just calm down, Major. I promise we’re not going to hurt you,” she soothed.

“No! Get away!” He was full out panicked now and very close to the edge of the balcony.

Before the exchange could go any further, the entire city bucked, throwing everyone sideways. Kate barely managed to catch herself on the chair before she smacked into the wall. “Evan!” Looking desperately toward the balcony, she just managed to catch a glimpse of the major as he tumbled over the railing.


	3. Chapter 3

_I’m a dead man,_ Evan thought as he fell. The thought felt like it came from outside of him, like he was observing himself as he had been in Kate’s office a moment ago. Unable to control himself or his actions. He was just a spectator now. And he was falling.

Until, suddenly, he wasn’t. 

Before, in Kate’s office, he’d had a vision that he was falling, but up into the sky, high above Atlantis. He hadn’t moved, and yet at the same time he had, the room and Kate and everything around him flying by so fast they were a blur. However it happened, he had ended up looking down on the glowing city, and he could feel every inch of it like he had yesterday, when this all began. As if he _was_ the city.

That was not what was happening now. Now, he was watching as the city tilted and rocked beneath him. When he had gone over the edge of the balcony, gravity had pulled him straight down. He should have fallen about fifteen floors before he splattered across the base of the tower. But instead, the city had moved, smacking into him like he was a fly being swatted out of the air. 

Stunned from hitting the side of the building, or rather, it hitting him, Evan was helpless to fall down the outer wall as if it were some kind of giant slide at a playground. He had just enough time to wonder what would happen if the city switched directions, throwing him out to sea, when he landed hard on another balcony.

The city swung around again, tilting at a crazy angle, and threw him up against the balcony railing. He managed to grab on, feeling like he was on some kind of insane ride, except it was dead set on killing him. Around him, the city bucked and convulsed, like it was having some kind of seizure or something. He went up and down and this way and that way, all the while keeping his white-knuckled grip on the railing.

Eventually, Atlantis began to settle down again, the crazy movements becoming slower and less intense. As it died down, his senses exploded again. 

It was as if he had been blind his whole life, and could suddenly see. He became aware of new senses that he had never even dreamed of before and could never describe. There weren’t words in any language that could encapsulate what he was experiencing, nothing that came close to be able to explain it. He could hardly breathe with the effort of it, and could feel the blood pouring out of his eyes, his nose, his ears. Could taste it in his mouth. 

It was incredible.

Alien.

And then, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of eye. Something that had always been there, but that he had never noticed before because he had never been able to. He perceived it, just for a second, like lightning revealing the landscape on a dark night.

It was Atlantis. He knew it, even though he didn’t understand how or why or what. She was there, alive, aware. And she was trying to tell him something.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there on the balcony, reeling from what had just happened, gasping air like a drowning man. His heart was pounding, and he could practically feel the adrenaline pumping through his trembling body. Eventually, he realized the alarms were still going off, and he heard an announcement over the PA:

_“If you have been injured, call the medical team and give them your location. Do not move, wait for help to arrive. The situation is under control.”_

He sat up and tried to get his bearings. It looked like he was about four or five floors beneath Kate’s office, and had ended up in someone’s quarters. Their stuff was flung everywhere around the room. He figured that meant everyone would be busy cleaning up, getting the city put back together after whatever had just happened, and he could probably sneak back to his own quarters without notice.

Sure enough, when he poked his head out the door, there were people running everywhere, and none of them paying him any attention. He took his chance and bolted for the transporter, beamed to the corridor outside his room, and ran inside.

Somewhere, rationality told him that he should turn himself in, go to the infirmary and get checked out again, but he was also certain that what was happening to him and what was happening to Atlantis were connected. He had to figure it out, solve the clues, put the pieces together somehow. He was the only one who could. If he went to the infirmary now, they would just think he had lost it. Maybe he had lost it, but he needed to try and figure this out. 

He thought through all that had happened, trying to make his mind make sense of the visions he’d been having. They seemed to indicate that the city was somehow alive, and yet, as much as everyone in Atlantis joked about the city having a personality, he knew that was crazy. A city wasn’t a living thing, it didn’t have a consciousness. It was a collection of buildings and stuff, a place for people to live in and use. 

Plus, if it was somehow alive, why had it waited four years to say hello?

Evan dismissed this theory, but was convinced that _something_ was trying to communicate with him. He just didn’t know what it was. Or what they were trying to say. But he had the paintings, and they _had_ to mean something. They had to be the key.

He decided to line them up against the wall and stare at them, see if maybe he would have an epiphany or something. He sat cross-legged on his bed and studied them, the world around him fading away as he got lost in them once again.

The images were powerful, provoking. They moved him to tears. They were emotions and thoughts and feelings that he had experienced before, and yet, it was like he had somehow lived someone else’s life, too and now had all of their experiences on top of his own. And he could understand them so _deeply,_ and why did anything else matter?

The door suddenly opened, snapping him back into reality. Kate stopped short just inside the door, mouth open in shock, eyeing him and the paintings with an expression of disbelief. Right, she had probably assumed he was dead.

“Kate,” he said quickly, shaking off his surprise. “Please don’t call security. Just... come in for a moment. Please.”

She nodded, still looking befuddled, and walked in a little further. “Are you okay?” she asked, looking him over with unconcealed worry.

“Yeah, yeah,” he reassured her. He frowned, wondering why she had come to his quarters. “Umm, what are you...?”

“The paintings,” she said, studying them with still wide eyes. “I thought I would come see them. Try and figure out what was going on with you.”

“Ah.” He huffed a little hysterically. “I had the same idea.” He turned back to them. “I can’t work it out.”

She hesitated for a second, probably debating whether to call Keller, and then strode over to him, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of him. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s see if we can work this out together, okay?”

He nodded, relaxing a little now that he knew she wasn’t going to turn him in. At least not yet. “Okay,” he agreed, and somewhere in the back of his mind he thought it was funny how easily they accepted the ridiculous circumstances that had led to this. Clearly, they had been through some weird shit before.

“First, tell me what happened when you were in my office,” she suggested. 

He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Okay. So, we were talking and then all of a sudden, it was like I had some kind of vision.” How to explain? He tried to come up with words for what he had seen. “It looked like you sprouted tentacles and turned inside out or something. It was freaky. And then I was falling, except I wasn’t falling, it was more like Atlantis was falling. Or... something. I don’t really know. But I somehow ended up in the sky, and I was looking down, and Atlantis was glowing and it was like, for a second, like I was the city.”

Her expression was schooled, as always, so he couldn’t tell if she thought he should be committed or if she bought his story. He might as well keep going. “And then, I fell off the balcony, but all of a sudden I wasn’t falling anymore, I was on a different balcony. And the whole city was going crazy. And while I was there, I had another vision. It was...” He really didn’t know how to explain that one, so he decided to just get to the point. “I think maybe something is trying to talk to me.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, something is definitely going on out there. When you had your... episode, the entire city started moving around. Like some kind of earthquake, but more powerful. Atlantis was rocking back and forth and swinging around, throwing everyone all over the place.” She paused and knitted her brow. “God, Evan, when you went over that railing, we all thought...” 

“Yeah, me too,” he admitted solemnly.

She took a breath and continued. “Rodney and Colonel Carter are both off world., so Colonel Sheppard and Radek are running the show. They think there’s some kind of computer virus infecting the systems, causing random power surges, and Radek’s trying to flush it out. He managed to boost the inertial dampeners just before the city went mad so there aren’t as many injuries as you might have expected, but things are pretty chaotic out there.”

He took that in. It was good to hear no one else had been tossed off a balcony, but he was certain whatever was causing the power surges would keep going until he figured it out. “And Doctor Keller?” he asked. “Should I expect her to come after me in a HAZMAT suit again?”

“No. She’s got her hands full.”

“Good,” he sighed. He couldn’t be caught. Not before he solved this. “And you’re not going to tell her I’m here?”

“I should,” she admitted, biting her lip. “But no. I think whatever’s happening to you, it’s more my field than hers.”

“Fine,” he said, relieved. It was nice to have an ally. “So, what do you suggest?”

She studied him, her eyes boring into him until he felt uncomfortable. “We could try hypnosis,” she offered. “It might help us understand the visions better.”

He had never been hypnotized before, and was a bit hesitant to try it. “What if I start bleeding again?” he asked.

“We can snap you right out of it,” she reassured him. 

Taking a deep breath, he nodded reluctantly. He needed to get to the bottom of this quickly, and if this was the way to accomplish that, so be it. “Okay, let’s do it.”

*****

Kate had gotten Evan settled on the bed and talked him through what she was going to do. He still had a somewhat panicked look on his face, so she asked him again if he was sure he wanted to do this, but he insisted he did. He was desperate for answers, and she didn’t blame him. What was happening to him was scaring _her._ She could imagine how terrified he must feel.

There was a chance the hypnosis wouldn’t work, it was not successful on every person, but she did think it was their best option right now. She might be able to draw out more information, get to the bottom of this. And that would be a great comfort to everyone. 

As she put him under, she wondered again if she was doing the right thing by not calling a medical team. He still had blood caked all over his face and neck, staining the neck of his jacket and shirt. Keller had told her that not only were his hormones levels too high when she scanned him in her office earlier, but the part of his brain that controlled fear was over-active as well. Kate could tell that was still the case based on the paranoid behavior he was exhibiting. 

But he was convinced that his episodes were somehow connected to what was happening in the city, and she had to admit she agreed with him. Calling Keller would just slow them down. The sooner they figured out what was happening, the better for both him and the rest of the city. So she pressed forward.

She was pleased that it seemed he was responding to the hypnosis as she did her countdown, lulling him under slowly with each number she said. That is, until she hit one and the alarms immediately went off as the city began to rumble again.

Evan was mumbling, moving restlessly on the bed. Suddenly, he sat straight up, eyes wide, but not seeing her. “It’s so beautiful,” he murmured. “I can see it all, I can see the city and the lights and the water...” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got up.

“Evan, do you know where you are?” she asked.

He ignored her and began to pull tubes of paint out of his desk. A steady stream of chatter was coming out of his mouth, all of it nonsense, and he seemed completely oblivious to the shaking around him. He grabbed some canvases from the corner of the room and threw them carelessly on the floor.

“It’s like water on glass and glass on a cloud, and the colors, the colors...” He splattered paint messily on a canvas and started swirling it around with his hands, getting it all over himself.

“Evan? What are you seeing? Is someone there with you?”

He didn’t answer, still muttering to himself as he moved on to the second canvas, adding more paint randomly. The rumbling was growing more intense. There was no doubt in her mind now that whatever was happening to him and the city were connected. She needed to wake him up.

Kate stumbled toward him and grabbed his shoulder, half holding on for balance, and half shaking him out of his stupor. She tried counting again, the way she usually brought someone out of hypnosis, but it didn’t work. “Evan! You need to wake up!” she shouted.

He ignored her and moved on to the third canvas, squeezing more paint out of the tubes and continuing to slap and swirl it around. “It’s so beautiful, I can’t believe it. Oh my God, it’s so beautiful!”

She shook him harder as the city bucked harder, but he just moved on to the fourth canvas, and then the fifth, still mumbling a string of thoughts that made no sense. 

An announcement came over the PA: _“This is Colonel Sheppard. Everyone is to evacuate to the main tower immediately. I repeat, everyone is to evacuate to the main tower immediately.”_

“Major, please,” she begged, trying to pull his hands away from the canvases. But he was too strong, shrugging her off and continuing to paint. 

She was very nearly going to call Keller, but then his eyes rolled back and he suddenly collapsed to the floor in convulsions. She dropped to her knees next to him, rolling him onto his side so he wouldn’t choke as more blood leaked out of his face. “Evan,” she sobbed almost hysterically. “Wake up, please, wake up.”

And then, just as suddenly as the seizure had started, he went still. She immediately felt for a pulse, finding it fast and thready under her fingers. 

The city was still shaking violently, and she jostled him again. “Major Lorne!” she shouted. “Evan, wake up!”

His eyes opened groggily and she let out another sob, but this one out of relief. “We have to go,” she told him forcefully. “They’re evacuating everyone to the main tower.”

He shook his head slowly, blinking in confusion. Looking around, he saw the paint on his hands and his eyes went a little wider. He shot upright and spotted the new canvases he had painted.

The floor continued to rumble, and she grabbed his arm to pull him up. They needed to get somewhere safe. “We have to move,” she insisted. 

He seemed to notice for the first time that the city was going crazy again. “It started as soon as you went under,” she explained. “As soon as you started to hallucinate under hypnosis, the city started to rumble. I’ve been trying to wake you ever since.”

The rumblings died down, and then stopped. Evan looked into her terrified eyes and gave her a small smile. “Let’s not do that again, huh?”

She took a steadying breath, trying to calm her nerves, and shook her head. “We need to call Colonel Sheppard and Doctor Zelenka.”

“No!” he said, panic in his eyes again. “No, please. Let’s just study these painting first. The key is here somewhere. I just need to find it. Please, Kate. Trust me.”

It was against her better judgment, but something about the way he looked at her did make her trust him. She bit her lip and nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

They tried to line the paintings up in the order that they thought they may have been painted, though the only ones they were really sure of were the first one and the five that Evan had just done moments ago. But they could make a good guess about the others based on how the colors were mixed and added, later paintings having a more muddy appearance from more and more colors being swirled together.

Once they were all stacked up, they began to go through them like flash cards, Kate holding up a canvas and Evan saying what feeling it evoked. 

Hope. Pain. A sense of having misplaced something terribly important. Loneliness. Loneliness. More loneliness. A sense of excitement at having mastered a new skill, like learning to ride a bike. Love, but not romantic love. Family love. Falling. Fury. Confusion.

Evan couldn’t put it together. He knew what impressions the paintings gave him, but they didn’t mesh. As they cycled through them again and again he began to sense a theme, but the meaning of them was still just out of reach. It was like hearing a foreign language that he could identify, but not quite understand. He recognized the words, but putting it all together was gibberish.

In a moment of frustration, he glanced away from the painting that Kate was holding and his eyes fell on the picture on his bedside table, the one of his sister and her family. 

A clear memory flashed through his mind, of the time he had gone with his sister to an ultrasound when she was pregnant with her first baby. Her husband, Ben, had been traveling a lot for work, and Evan had been on leave at the time, so Maggie had convinced him to come along. Seeing the tiny, kind of alien-shaped baby on the screen had been cool, but the part that had really stuck with him was when they turned on the Doppler so they could hear the baby’s heartbeat. It had been incredible; the baby hadn’t even been born, and yet was already so alive.

And then, thinking about that memory, it clicked. The entire thing just dropped into his head. He knew exactly what was happening to Atlantis.

He jumped up, making Kate start, and ran to the comm unit on the wall to page Ops. “Zelenka, are you there?” he shouted urgently. 

_“Lorne?”_ the confused voice came back. _“Where are you, Major?”_

“That doesn’t matter now,” Evan said impatiently. “The virus, have you purged it yet?”

_“Any moment now, Major. Why?”_

“Just don’t, okay?” Evan begged, grasping for some reason he could give. Coming up blank, he repeated, “Just don’t.”

Colonel Sheppard’s voice came over the radio. _“Lorne? Are you in your quarters? We thought you were dead.”_

“Colonel, just stop,” Evan said, ignoring him. They could talk about his miraculous return from the dead later. Right now, all he cared about was making them stop before they did something irreversible. “Radek, I need to explain.”

He heard a muffled conversation, like they were covering the mic, and clenched his fists with agitated energy. He needed to do something, needed to convince them somehow, but it was too complicated to explain and his thoughts were moving too fast to come up with anything simple enough to convince them quickly. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Keller came to get him, now that they knew where he was.

Sheppard came back on the line. _“Lorne, this virus is just too dangerous. There’s been a power buildup over the last few hours. If we don’t get control of the systems soon the whole city could just... Boom! You know?”_ Always articulate, that one.

Evan heard Zelenka in the background yell something about an imminent explosion, and felt icy panic flood his veins. “Stop!” he shouted. 

But at the same time he could hear Sheppard ordering, _“Do it!”_

There was an explosion and he felt the city scream as it lost all power, the shock and pain overwhelming him. The agonized cries filled his head as he felt the life drain away from every system. 

And then, everything was silent. Only the sound of the wind and the waves.

He came to on the floor, Kate leaning over him, her face pale with worry. “Evan, can you hear me?”

He pushed himself up, ignoring her. “Zelenka!” he shouted, receiving no response. Comms were down.

He had to get up there, had to stop them. They were killing it! It might already be too late, but if there was any chance left, he had to save it. He had to try.

An idea popped into his head. “Kate,” he said. “Look behind you, on the shelf. My camera, can you get it?” 

She still looked terrified by his most recent collapse, but she obeyed and retrieved it. 

He turned it on, shooting a quick thank you to whatever universal power was listening that the thing was battery operated. “I need you to take photos of all the paintings and then bring the memory stick to Ops,” he ordered her, handing it back. “Can you do that?”

“I really think you should...” she started.

But he was already prying the door open and running down the hall. 

It was inevitable that he would run into someone on his way to the Operations, and that person was Captain Kennedy. Kennedy was a good kid, still getting his footing here, but Evan liked him. But he didn’t have time to explain what was going on, and especially not time to be caught. 

As soon as Kennedy spotted him, the young soldier drew his gun. Not surprising. By now, everyone is the city would know he was AWOL. Making a split second decision, Evan took the chance that Kennedy wouldn’t shoot a superior officer, and rushed at him, hitting him hard enough to knock him out. 

Snatching his gun, Evan continued his desperate run to the operations room.

*****

This day had gone from bad to hellish as soon as John had gotten to Ops. Whatever these power surges were, they had gotten dramatically worse within the course of a few hours, and he and Zelenka were barely keeping up. He swore he was never letting both Carter and McKay off world at the same time again. 

“Doc?” he asked, glancing up from his screen of flashing disaster icons to get an update from Zelenka. 

The Czech man was typing furiously, interspersed with plenty of cursing. “Uh, I have nearly isolated the virus causing the malfunctions, but it is behaving very strangely. I need more time.”

“I’m not sure how many more of these power surges we can take,” John reminded him. “So the faster you isolate, the better.”

“Yes, yes, I do not need to be told this!” Zelenka snapped back. “I am working as fast as I can.”

John turned toward Chuck, who was sitting on his other side. “What’s the damage report?”

Chuck had been acting as dispatch for all the radio calls on the main channel while John monitored the command frequency. “The south tower has some flooding on the lower levels, and the zoology labs reported some damage, but they said it wasn’t too severe.”

John scrunched his face. “Zoology? Do we need to worry about animals on the loose?”

Chuck paled a little at that. There were some pretty exotic alien species being kept down there that were potentially dangerous. “I’ll ask,” he said.

“You do that,” John agreed. Great, another problem to add to his growing list.

Not only did John not have Carter and McKay here, both of whom would have been incredibly helpful with the current computer situation, but he was missing his XO as well. And not just because he was taking a sick day, but apparently he had gone nutty and fallen off a balcony. A fifteenth floor balcony. Which meant he was likely the first, and hopefully only, casualty of this disaster, though John wasn’t fully counting him gone until he saw a body. Still, needless to say, that was also going on his list of things that had gone wrong today.

“Colonel,” Zelenka said, drawing his attention. “I believe I have isolated it. I am almost ready. I just need a few more minutes and then we can purge it from the systems.”

“Good,” John replied. The sooner the better. They hadn’t had a surge in a few minutes now, but he knew the next one could be devastating. 

The comms suddenly crackled to life. _“Zelenka, are you there?”_ Was that Lorne?

“Lorne?” Zelenka responded, glancing at John with a furrowed brow. He had heard the transmissions about the major’s untimely death as well. “Where are you, Major?”

John turned back to Chuck. “Can you figure out where he’s calling from?” he asked quietly so the mic wouldn’t pick him up. Lorne sounded okay, but he had fallen off a balcony and was likely injured. Plus, Keller had said he had freaked out when they tried to take him in, had said his brain chemistry and hormones were all out of whack. They needed to find him. Chuck nodded and pulled up a map of the city, tracing the signal. 

_“That doesn’t matter now. The virus, have you purged it yet?”_

“Any moment now, Major,” Zelenka responded, still typing on the computer. “Why?”

Chuck pointed to the spot on the map where the signal originated. Residential quarters.

_“Just don’t, okay? Just don’t.”_ He sounded panicked.

“Lorne, are you in your quarters?” John asked. “We thought you were dead,” he added, both relieved to hear that wasn’t true and concerned that it had been a couple of hours since his swan dive with no word from him. What had he been doing?

_“Colonel, just stop. Radek... I need to explain.”_

John covered the mic. “Chuck, call Keller and tell her Lorne is in his quarters.” The technician nodded, tapping his radio. “Zelenka, can we hold off on erasing the virus at all? Just in case he’s on to something?” He trusted his XO, and if he said not to erase the virus, John would at least consider it.

“No,” Radek responded shortly. “The power is building, the next surge will be catastrophic.”

“Catastrophic as in...” John began, and at Zelenka’s expression he got the hint.

He uncovered the mic, deciding to try to reason with the major. “Lorne, this virus is just too dangerous,” he explained. “There’s been a power buildup over the last few hours. If we don’t get control of the systems soon the whole city could just...” He glanced at Zelenka, who was still looking at his screen. “Boom! You know?”

“Colonel!” Zelenka interrupted. “There is about to be another surge, an explosion is imminent! I am deleting the virus!”

_“Stop!”_ came over the radio at the same time that John yelled, “Do it!”

Radek hit the enter key and there was some kind of explosion and then everything went dead. Every screen blank, every light off. No power anywhere.

Everyone stood in silence for a moment, waiting to see if the systems would reboot. But there was nothing. Just the sound of the waves outside, which could never be heard from here with the usual clicks and whirs of machinery. John couldn’t even hear the usual quiet hum of Ancient technology in the back of his mind. It was eerie.

“Radek?” he drawled accusingly.

“I do not know,” Zelenka said, trying to boot up any of the computers. None of them were working. He snagged a laptop, which, thanks to its battery, started up.

John tapped his radio, trying to call anyone outside the operations room, but the radios were dead as well. 

And then he noticed something else. The city seemed to be sinking. “Doc?” He motioned to the window, where it was clear that the edges of the city were beginning to slowly submerge.

“Ah,” Radek said, his eyes wide. “That is not good.”

“Ya think?!” John snapped.

Radek turned back to his laptop, flipping through screens furiously. “If Atlantis has lost all power, then we do not have any of the mechanisms in place to keep her afloat.”

“I thought you said nothing could go wrong, Radek!” John said, his frustration growing. Why couldn’t the solution ever be simple?

“Nothing has,” Zelenka responded, eyes flying over the computer screen with confusion. “The virus is gone.”

John barely held back the urge to slap the scientist silly. “Sure,” he agreed sarcastically. “The virus is gone, but so is everything else.”

Zelenka forced a smile. “Ah, well, you know. Omelet, eggs.”

“Zelenka,” John said through gritted teeth, “we are sinking.”

“Oh, well, it’ll be an hour or more before we’re underwater,” the scientist answered, far too calmly for John’s taste. “I should be able to work something out before then.”

“Hey!” someone called, drawing John’s attention to the person who had just entered the operations room.

It took John a second to recognize the person standing in the doorway as Lorne. He was a sight, covered head to toe in colorful splotches that John realized was paint. No, not just paint. Was that blood on his face? His blue eyes were wide and panic-filled, an expression John had never seen on the major before. And he was holding a gun in his shaking hands.

Without blinking, John drew his sidearm and aimed it at him. “Stand down, Major,” he warned. He had had a crappy enough day already and didn’t need anything else to go wrong.

Lorne froze, staring at him with a wild look that seemed so out of place on him. The guy had to be one of the most stable people in the city, his reputation for always staying unnaturally calm so well known that people joked he was a robot (not John, of course; he would never spread such rumors). But now he was clearly in a complete panic, and ready to do something stupid.

Captain Kennedy suddenly came barreling into the room, bowling over Major Lorne so that they both landed in a heap. The major didn’t hesitate, but grabbed the younger man in a neck-lock and held the gun to his head, standing so that he was using the captain as a shield. 

“Colonel Sheppard,” he said, desperation in his voice. “You need to listen to me.”

“Let the kid go and we can talk about it, Lorne,” John responded calmly, keeping a steady aim on the major. Kennedy looked terrified and confused.

“No time for that. I need you to trust me, Colonel.”

“Well, put down the gun and let’s talk about it,” he tried again. 

Lorne looked conflicted, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Kennedy. “Everyone move back. Now! Get away from those controls.” He pointed his gun at John and met his gaze, not blinking once. “Colonel Sheppard, so help me God, I will shoot you.”

John could see it in his eyes, he was prepared to do it. Keller had warned him that the major wasn’t himself, and that was very obvious now. He bit his lip, considering shooting the major somewhere innocuous to disable him, but he didn’t have a good shot. Holding out his hands in surrender, John lowered his gun and motioned for the others to do the same. They moved back slowly from the control panels.

Keeping the captain between himself and everyone else, Lorne moved forward, gun moving back to Kennedy’s head. “Not you, Radek,” he said. “I need you.” 

Zelenka shot a look at John, who nodded. They were going to have to play this Lorne’s way for now.

“Now, is _everything_ dead?” Lorne asked, that desperation still in his tone. Zelenka nodded. “No power anywhere?”

“Well,” Zelenka amended. “There are still occasional power surges, but they’re very small.”

Lorne wrinkled his forehead in thought. “Okay, could you, I don’t know, could you capture one of those power surges and route it to a specific system?”

Zelenka sighed and started in to some kind of technical explanation that went way over John’s head. Evidently, it was over Lorne’s head too because he stared blankly at the scientist before saying, “Which means?”

“Yes, I believe I could do that,” Zelenka summarized.

“Okay,” Lorne said, looking relieved. “So when the next surge comes along, no matter how small, route it to the comms. We’re gonna send a message.”

John clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to yell. Getting angry wouldn’t help the situation. “Lorne,” he argued with as much calm as he could muster. The man had to see reason. “We’re still new here. Nobody knows where we are. The last thing we want to do is draw attention to ourselves.” He paused. “Where are you sending a message to anyway?”

“Lantea,” Lorne answered simply.

“Are you insane?!” Reason be damned. John could feel his blood pressure rising with his voice. Was he _trying_ to tell the entire universe where they were? “We just left there. Who are you signaling?” A horrible thought entered his mind. “Oh, crap. You’re not really Lorne are you?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” Lorne said, exasperated.

“Then what the hell are you doing?!” 

Just then, Heightmeyer ran into the room carrying a memory stick. She froze when she saw the standoff, eyes flicking back and forth between Lorne and the group of people with their hands still up in surrender.

“Kate,” Lorne said. “Bring me the stick.” But she hesitated, not sure what to do.

John couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Now Kate was involved in this coup? “Doc, what’s on that?” he asked suspiciously. What the hell was Lorne trying to do?

“I-It’s pictures of the paintings Major Lorne did.” she stuttered, still looking terrified and confused by the entire situation. 

“Huh?” John said, taken aback. Paintings? What was she talking about? 

Heightmeyer seemed to find her courage and hurried over to Lorne, who told her to give the memory stick to Zelenka.

“Radek, plug this into your laptop,” Lorne was instructing. “Get the images from the memory stick, and beam them as a message to Lantea. Use all the power you can muster.”

Zelenka looked frightened, but took the memory stick and started working.

John decided he had had enough of this. He was not going to let Lorne sabotage Atlantis. “Don’t do it, Radek,” he warned, looking for an opportunity to take Lorne down.

“Colonel,” Lorne said, ever-so-slightly tightening his grip on Kennedy. He knew John too well. “Trust me,” he begged, his face softening. “This is the only way to save Atlantis. It’s not a computer virus.” He took a deep breath. “It’s a child. Colonel. It’s a child. And it’s dying.”

“I’m ready to...” mumbled Zelenka.

Lorne threw Kennedy aside and lunged for the computer, hitting the enter button.

It was like someone had suddenly stabbed him in the head. John was completely overcome by the migraine, the loud rushing noise. He tried to keep his eyes open, to see what was going on, but he was overwhelmed by a bright light and had to squeeze them shut. It felt like someone was trying to crush his head, the pressure was intense. 

And then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. He caught himself on a control panel as he reeled from the release of pressure, dizzy for a moment, and looked around. Everyone else was in a similar state, confused, with hands to their heads that had been in agony a second ago. Except Lorne.

He panicked for a second before he spotted him out on the balcony, looking up at the sky. Shit. Grabbing his gun off the floor, John ran towards him. “Lorne,” he barked, ready to shoot if needed. “Drop the weapon.” 

The major didn’t seem to notice him, was too caught up in watching the sky with an awed expression on his face, gun hanging loosely from his hand as if he’d forgotten all about it. John approached him slowly, keeping his own gun level. He had no idea what had just happened, but there was no way in hell he was letting Lorne get away from him. 

As he got closer, John could see that Lorne’s eyes were glazed, and he was swaying slightly. John reached out to take the gun, flicking the safety back on, and the major finally looked over at him.

“Incredible,” he breathed, grinning. And then he collapsed.

“Dammit,” John muttered, holstering his gun and tucking the other into his belt. He knelt next to the unconscious man and felt for a pulse. It was rapid, his breathing quick and shallow. 

“I need a med team!” John shouted. 

Heightmeyer was already running to join him. “Evan?” she said, trying to rouse him without success.

“What the hell happened to him, Doc?” John asked. He really wanted some answers right about now. 

She pursed her lips, shaking her head. “He-he was having visions, blacked out and painted a bunch of crazy pictures... He thought it was an alien trying to communicate with him. That’s what was causing the power surges.”

Paintings? Aliens? “What?”

“The paintings, the alien was talking to him through them. Every time there was a power surge, he would have visions. Seizures.” Her eyes went back to Lorne and her voice got quieter. “It was too much for him. He was bleeding...”

Now that he was closer, John could clearly see the dried blood all over Lorne’s face and neck. He felt a surge of anger at whatever had done this to him.

The medical team arrived quickly, they had probably already been on their way. John was sure someone had managed to tell them that Lorne was in Operations before the stand off started. Keller ran across the room to meet them. “What happened?” she asked as she knelt next to her patient with a portable scanner.

John gave a brief rundown of the events since Lorne had shown up in the Operations while Keller took his vitals and flashed the pen light across his eyes. Her face was pinched in worry as she slipped an oxygen mask onto him. 

“What’s wrong with him, Doc?” John asked.

“I don’t really know,” she admitted. “It’s like his entire body is in overdrive, everything’s off the charts. I need to get him down to the infirmary.”

John looked around and motioned for Sergeant Stackhouse to join them. “Sergeant,” he ordered as the man jogged up. “I need to stay up here for a bit, make sure everything is under control, but I want you to go with Major Lorne, keep him under guard. Do _not_ let him out of your sight, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Stackhouse agreed dutifully, watching as the med team lifted the unconscious major onto the gurney.

John hated to say it, but he added, “Use force if necessary.” He wasn’t letting the situation get any more out of control than it already was. The power had come back on, and while he hoped that meant the whole thing was over now, he had been around long enough not to assume it was.

Stackhouse looked a bit wide-eyed, probably still a bit shocked at how events had just played out, but he gave another affirmative and salute before following Keller’s team toward the infirmary.

John was somewhat in shock himself. As much as it was normal for things to not be normal in Atlantis, he still managed to get blindsided sometimes. The city going crazy had been unexpected, but his level-headed, ever calm and trustworthy XO going off the deep end had definitely thrown him for a loop.

Taking a moment to roll his neck and scrub a weary hand over his face, John turned back to the operations room where people were already back at the computers, evaluating their situation. Yeah, he was definitely not letting Carter and McKay off world together ever again. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself together to assess the damage. “Alright, he announced to the room. “What’s our status?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out it's my interpretation of what happened next. Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

“Kate?”

Kate looked up when she heard her name and saw Teyla approaching her on crutches. “Teyla,” she greeted, relieved to see a friendly face. 

She had followed the medical team to the infirmary and sat down to wait for an update on Evan’s condition, but she hadn’t heard anything since they disappeared into the depths of the treatment room an hour ago. The way they had been talking on the way hadn’t sounded very good.

“What are you doing here?” Teyla asked, sitting down in the seat next to her, wearing a concerned expression. “Were you injured in one of the power surges?”

Kate gave her a shaky smile and shook her head. “No,” she reassured. “I’m fine. I’m waiting for news about Major Lorne.” She noticed the fresh wrap around Teyla’s ankle. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Teyla sighed, stretching out the injured leg and looking at it with irritation. “I sprained my ankle. It is not serious, just painful,” she admitted. 

Kate gave her a sympathetic wince. She knew that Teyla hated being injured, but a sprained ankle wasn’t too bad. She would heal quickly. 

“What happened to Major Lorne?” Teyla asked, turning the conversation away from herself.

“It’s a long story,” Kate sighed, but told it anyway because it helped to have someone to talk to while she waited. She was more than a little concerned for the major after what she had seen today, and waiting was making her even more anxious. Why was it taking so long?

Teyla took in the story with a thoughtful expression, putting her hand comfortingly on Kate’s arm when she got to the part about Evan tumbling off her balcony and creasing her brow in concern when she told her about the stand off in Ops. “That must have been very hard to witness,” Teyla said when she was done.

Kate, who was on the edge of tears now, laughed at Teyla’s reaction. She felt like the woman would have made a wonderful psychiatrist in another life. “Yes, it was,” she admitted. 

“I am sure Major Lorne will be alright,” Teyla said, her hand still on Kate’s arm. “He is strong.”

Kate just nodded at this, not trusting herself to speak anymore without letting loose the emotions from the day. She could process it later, in her quarters, alone. 

Doctor Keller chose that moment to appear, her smile signaling good news. “Well, it was a little touch-and-go there for a minute, but we’ve managed to get him stabilized. He’s resting now,” she started.

Kate closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the relief wash over her. 

“His brain activity is off the charts,” Jennifer continued. “I’ve never seen a scan like that before. It’s like looking at Christmas lights. That’s what caused the seizures and the bleeding. And his hormone levels were extremely high, too, which caused his body to kind of freak out. We’ve given him a sedative, but he’s already leveling out on his own.”

Kate nodded, thinking of how irrational he had acted all day. It was good to hear that he was returning to normal. “So he’ll be okay?” she asked.

“We’ll monitor him for a while to be sure, but I think he’ll be fine,” Jennifer confirmed with a smile.

Good. Kate wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if her putting off getting him medical help had caused permanent damage. “Can I see him?”

“For a few minutes,” Jennifer agreed, motioning for her to follow. 

Teyla gave her a smile and tilted her head in farewell as Kate got up to follow the doctor.

Nurse Marie was still cleaning the last of the paint off of Evan’s arms, but otherwise the blood and paint that had been covering him had been washed away and he’d been changed into clean scrubs. He looked so much better, and yet so much worse, his skin the same color as the sheets, and dark smudges under his eyes. The oxygen mask had been traded for a nasal cannula, and he had wires connected to his head, showing all kinds of wavy lines Kate didn’t understand on the screen they were attached to. 

“He’s so pale,” she noted.

“He’s a little anemic from all the blood loss,” Jennifer explained.

Kate noticed a handcuff on his wrist connecting him to the bed rail, and Sergeant Stackhouse was standing guard nearby. Right, Evan had held up Operations at gunpoint, taken a hostage. She didn’t suppose they would just let him walk away from that.

Walking up to the side of the bed, she nearly lost the fragile hold she had on her emotions. Swallowing the tears back, she took Evan’s limp hand in hers. “Hey, Evan,” she said quietly. “You’re going to be okay. You did it.”

She was tempted to reach up and fix his tousled hair, still damp from being washed of paint and blood, but she was aware of the others present. She settled for squeezing his hand instead. “You get better now, okay?” she ordered. 

Looking back toward Jennifer, she asked, “When will he wake up?”

The doctor shrugged. “The sedative should wear off in a few hours, but his body was put under quite a lot of stress. He may sleep longer.”

“Can I come back once he wakes?” 

Doctor Keller eyed the sergeant, who gave no indication that he noticed. “You’ll have to ask Colonel Sheppard,” she said slowly. So she wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was either.

Kate just nodded and gave Evan’s hand one last squeeze before following Jennifer back out. “It was a long day,” Jennifer told her as she made to leave. “Be sure to get some rest.”

Kate smiled at her. Had she been that obvious about how rattled she was? Probably. “You, too,” she replied. She was sure the doctor had not had the easiest day either.

As she walked back to her quarters, she wondered how much trouble Evan would get in for all of this. She hoped he didn’t get transferred back to Earth; she was rather hoping to continue this new-found friendship.

*****

Evan wasn’t sure he wanted to open his eyes when he woke up. He felt... Wrung out. He knew he was in the infirmary from the sound of monitors, but didn’t remember coming here. The last thing he did remember was watching the alien disembark into the inter-dimensional rift or whatever, which meant he had either gone and done something else insane or just passed out. Hopefully the latter. He didn’t feel the tingly after-effects of the stunner, or worse, any bullet holes, so he didn’t think he had been shot, but he really wouldn’t have blamed anyone after that fiasco.

For a few minutes, he just lay there, pretending to still be asleep and replaying the events of the last two days, what he could remember of them, in his mind. What had he been _thinking?_ It was like he was remembering the actions of someone else. Certainly he hadn’t been the one to hide the fact that he was being influenced by some alien entity, circumvent the medical team when they tried to contain him, disobey direct orders, attack one of his men, and threaten to _shoot_ his commanding officer. Oh God, he was through.

Well, he was going to have to face the music someday. Might as well be now. Sighing, he opened his eyes, ready to assess the damage.

The first thing he noticed was Sergeant Pikler standing guard nearby. Then, the handcuffs connecting his right wrist to the bed rail. Yep, he deserved that. Other than that, it was all medical stuff. The usual IV and monitors. 

Pikler was watching him, so he smiled sheepishly. “Hey, Sergeant.”

Pikler didn’t smile back. He deserved that too.

“Can you get the doc?” he asked, and Pikler tapped his radio. 

He tried not to squirm under the sergeant’s scrutinizing glare while he waited for Keller, but he was feeling more awkward by the second. Maybe he should have gone back to sleep for a while longer.

“Hi, Major,” Keller said as she approached, and he was glad for a distraction from the disappointed and somewhat judgmental looks he felt Pikler was giving him. Maybe he was just projecting. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he answered automatically. He didn’t care about himself at the moment, he needed to know if he had hurt anyone. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone’s fine,” she said reassuringly as she began the routine of taking his vitals. “Captain Kennedy got a few stitches. There were a few bumps and bruises from the city going haywire, but nothing serious.”

He let out a relieved breath, relaxing a little against the bed. He owed Kennedy one heck of an apology, but at least he had only screwed his own life and not anyone else’s. “Thank God,” he muttered.

“As for what happened,” she continued, taking out her pen light to momentarily blind him, “that’s still a little unclear. I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that.”

He shrugged, blinking the spots out of his vision. “I’m not sure I can really explain it. It was all a little...” He tried to think of a good word for it. “Disjointed.”

Sheppard chose this moment to waltz into the infirmary, looking a lot happier when he saw Evan than anyone else had so far. That still didn’t make the major feel any less nervous to see him. 

“Lorne, you’re finally up,” Sheppard said, joining them. “Feeling any better?”

Evan glanced at Pikler; he must have called the colonel. The sergeant kept his gaze passively on the wall across from him. 

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just a little tired.” That was an understatement, but other than feeling ridiculously exhausted, he really did feel fine.

“His brain function is still a little elevated,” Keller reported, checking the monitors. “And hormone levels are still evening out, but I think it’s safe to say whatever happened is over.”

That was good to hear. He could see the relief on Sheppard’s face as well as the colonel asked, “So no permanent side effects?”

Keller shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Turning back to Evan, she gave him a small smile. “You’ll probably feel tired and moody the next few days, but you should be back to normal soon. We’ll continue to monitor you, but I don’t foresee any issues.”

He could handle tired and moody, as long as it wasn’t anything like the last two days. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Mind if I talk to him for a minute?” Sheppard asked.

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll be back in bit.”

Sheppard dismissed Pikler as well. “I’ll keep an eye on him, Sergeant,” he assured the young soldier. 

Pikler hesitated for a second, he had probably been ordered not to leave, but after Sheppard raised his eyebrows at him emphatically, he agreed with a, “Yes, sir,” and a salute before leaving. 

Both men watched him walk away before Sheppard turned back to his XO, who suddenly became very interested in a loose thread on his blanket.

“Stopped by your quarters earlier,” Sheppard said after a minute of awkward silence. “Not exactly how I would choose to decorate, but...”

Evan winced, imagining what the colonel had thought upon seeing the insane state of things in his room. Probably thought he had completely lost it. 

“How bad?” he said quietly, his voice suddenly not wanting to work. He took a chance and glanced up at Sheppard. 

Sheppard crossed his arms across his chest. He looked pissed. “Well, it’s not great,” he snapped. “I mean, what the hell, Lorne?”

Evan flinched at his raised voice and cowered further down into the bed. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled, feeling the blush rising to his cheeks. “I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Letting out a long sigh, Sheppard ran a hand through his hair and started pacing at the end of the bed. “Carter’s calling in some shrink to have you evaluated before they decide on disciplinary action.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, though. This is hardly the first time aliens have screwed with one of us.”

Evan picked at the loose thread again, feeling despondent. He hadn’t expected to get off Scot-free, but he wasn’t sure he liked the sounds of “being evaluated.” 

“There’s no question that _something_ went down,” Sheppard continued. “We’re all just a little unclear on what that was.”

“What did happen?” Evan asked. “On your end, I mean?” 

Sheppard made a face. “I’m not really supposed to talk to you about it. They don’t want me to influence your side of the story.” 

Of course. Because he was a prisoner now and not the second-in-command, so he no longer had the privilege of being in the loop. He bit the inside of his mouth, trying not to let his emotions show, but he was having a hard time keeping the frustration and self-loathing off his face.

“Dammit, Lorne, why didn’t you come to me?” Sheppard said, the anger still coloring his tone. “Tell me what was going on? You almost _died,_ for God’s sake.”

Evan didn’t have a good answer for that, so he shrugged and mumbled, “I don’t know.” Man, he felt like he was going to cry. Stupid hormones.

Sheppard must have seen how torn up he was because he backed off a bit. “Well, for now you’re under arrest. Once Keller discharges you, you’ll be confined to your quarters pending this evaluation. The guy’s supposed to get here tomorrow morning.”

Evan nodded, not having anything else to say about it. He knew it was how things had to play out, but that didn’t make it any less upsetting. At the time, his actions had felt necessary, justified, but now he realized how reckless he had been. He had probably just ended his career.

Sheppard sighed and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Get some rest, okay, Major?”

“Yes, sir,” he said around the lump in his throat, not daring to look up.


	6. Chapter 6

The incident was nearly over, soon to be yet another AAR to be filed under “alien entities screwing with the city.” Repairs were underway, and thankfully, not too many were needed. No one had been seriously injured. The city was nearly back to normal a mere 26 hours after the chaos.

Nearly.

John was pacing in Colonel Carter’s office, unable to sit. It had been at least five hours since Doctor David Glennie had come through the gate. Three since his own interview with the man. And now the doctor was with Lorne in his quarters, deciding his fate.

“Should it take this long?” he asked, probably for the twentieth time since Carter had called him into her office. She had kept a not-so-subtle close eye on him since Glennie’s arrival. Probably didn’t want him meddling with the investigation.

Carter, who was working at her desk and mostly ignoring his presence (she didn’t actually need him for any reason other than to babysit him), glanced up at him and sighed. “Just relax, Colonel. Taking a long time isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

For as pissed as John had been about the entire incident, Carter had kept a much more level head upon returning to find her city in total chaos. Well, not total chaos. By the time she and McKay had returned from their excursion, everything was mostly under control. All personnel had been accounted for, damage had been cataloged and prioritized, and clean up was already underway. At that point, it was really just absorbing the shock of what had happened in the ten or so hours that she had been absent.

Even after hearing the entire tale and looking at the readings taken during the power surges, Carter and McKay weren’t able to fully explain what had happened. It seemed that Lorne was the only one who would be able to shed some light on that, but Carter had forbade John from seeing him after his initial visit in the infirmary. It seemed they would have to wait to hear his version of events.

John had tried to convince her not to call the SGC, but Carter couldn’t just ignore the situation. It had been her idea to call in the civilian psychologist to assess Lorne’s mental state and determine how much of his actions had been his own versus under the influence of an alien life form. John wasn’t convinced it would be enough, was worried that the higher ups would just see the acts of insubordination and put him through a court martial, or at least remove him from Atlantis. He knew how it worked.

But the whole thing was crap. Yeah, Lorne had gone off the rails a bit, but honestly, who hadn’t? He had read AARs for SG teams back on Earth, and they’d already had plenty of their own weird alien encounters in the Pegasus Galaxy. To John, it was clear that this had all just been one of those scenarios, and he was ready to write it off as such and move on with life as usual.

Except, bureaucracy demanded an investigation. Officers, especially ones who were second-in-command of a military operation in a remote galaxy, couldn’t be allowed to just attack fellow soldiers and hold up their superior officers at gunpoint and get away with it. There had to be consequences. But, dammit, John hoped those consequences didn’t include Lorne being shipped out.

Carter had been way too calm about the entire thing, very by-the-book, which had made John even more agitated. He was under the impression that she liked the major, that they had even been acquaintances back in Colorado Springs, if not exactly friends, but he couldn’t tell now if she didn’t care what happened to him or just didn’t think there was cause for concern. It was infuriating.

John and Lorne weren’t best friends by any means, but they’d been working closely together for two years now, and they worked _well_ together. Lorne was the by-the-book compliment to John’s off-the-wall approach, the discipline to John’s impulsive nature. He anticipated needs and fulfilled them before John even realized what they were. Not to mention, he’d saved John’s ass more times than he could count. Okay, so maybe they were pretty good friends.

He thought back to his brief conversation with the major when he had first woken up after the incident. The guy had clearly felt terrible about the whole thing, and more than that, knew he was screwed. Which had John even more convinced that the imprisonment and investigation were completely unnecessary. He would have never acted the way he did if he hadn’t been under some kind of alien influence.

John had done his own little investigation, cornering Heightmeyer and basically interrogating her until Teyla stepped in and made him calm down. Once Kate gathered her wits (he hadn’t realized he made her cry until Teyla pointed it out), she walked him through the events from her perspective.

They’d gone to Lorne’s quarters, which were in a shocking state, to say the least, and Kate had explained what happened during the hypnosis and piecing together the puzzle afterward. And if the paintings weren’t enough, Kate had also recorded the hypnosis session, which was all kinds of disturbing to listen to, but also cemented in John’s mind that his XO had definitely been out of his mind.

The whole time they were there, John couldn’t stop staring at the smears of blood on the floor, remembering how Lorne had looked when he showed up in Ops. How could he have been having seizures, bleeding out of his _face,_ and neither of them tried to get help?

Teyla told him later that Kate would be facing her own investigation. As angry as he was about how events had played out, John thought it would be a shame if she was sent back to Earth. It had taken guts to go along with Lorne’s crazy theory to save the city, even if it hadn’t been conducted the way it should have been.

Carter held her hand up to her ear, listening to her radio, and John froze to watch her face for any clues about what was happening. She kept her expression passive as she thanked whoever was on the other end. “Doctor Glennie finished his interview,” she informed him. “He’s going to use the conference room to piece together the testimonies he collected and write up a report to send back to Earth.”

“Great,” John said, taking that as his cue to leave. 

“Colonel,” she called after him, making him stop and turn back. “Don’t interfere with him. You had your interview.” She gave him a serious look, the kind that meant she wasn’t messing around. 

“Yes, ma’am,” John agreed, wondering if he ever got put into a position like hers if he would have to be that... Impartial. He doubted they would ever promote him that high.

He made a beeline for Lorne’s quarters, determined to have a proper conversation with him now that he had given his testimony and couldn’t be coerced or coached to say anything else. John’s own testimony had been a frustrating experience. He felt the doctor had asked all the wrong questions and twisted his words back on themselves until he wasn’t even sure what he had said in the end. He hoped things had gone better for Lorne.

About half way there he spotted the psychologist walking down the hall with one of the social scientists, Richardson or something. John made eye contact, trying to read from Doctor Glennie’s expression anything about how the interview had gone.

“Colonel,” Glennie greeted, which John took as an invitation to stop and talk with him.

“Doctor,” he responded. “How did it go?” Asking how it went wasn’t interfering.

“You know I’m not allowed to discuss it with you,” the doctor said, but then he sighed at John’s hopeful look. “But, off the record, I don’t think you should be too concerned.”

John felt a weight lift off his shoulders as a grin spread across his face. “See?” he said, as if he was proving a point. “Not a big deal. Crazy stuff happens here all the time.”

“Yes, it does seem that way,” Glennie said slowly with a vaguely amused expression on his face. “Sounds like Major Lorne had quite the experience.” He stuck out a hand to shake. “Well, anyway, I need to write up my report.”

“Thanks, Doc,” John said, returning the handshake. 

He continued on his way with a bit more pep in his step. When he got to Lorne’s quarters, he couldn’t help but smile brightly at Sergeant Riley, who was stationed outside the door. “Afternoon, Sergeant. I’m here to see the prisoner.”

Lorne was sorting canvases when he entered, but he stopped to stand at attention when he saw his CO. 

John waved him off dismissively. “Just ran into the doc out in the hall,” he said.

Lorne pursed his lips, turning back to the paintings. “He say I’m crazy?” he asked darkly. 

John picked up a canvas that was near the door, studying the crazy swirls of colors. “Nope.” It was actually kind of engrossing. He liked the way the blues and greens mixed. And that little splotch of yellow in the corner. For some reason it made him feel happy.

Lorne was watching him now, waiting for him to expound. 

“He still has to write his report,” John said, glancing up from the painting with a mischievous smile.

Lorne rolled his eyes, knowing he wasn’t going to get a clear answer from John about his fate. “Is everything back to normal out there?” he asked, changing the subject. “They don’t give us newspapers in the clink.”

John continued to gaze at the painting, noticing now how the ring of red looked kind of like a Ferris wheel. He liked Ferris wheels. “Yeah,” he said distractedly. “Still a lot of repairs, especially on some of the lower levels that flooded when we were sinking, but mostly back to normal.” He wasn’t usually into abstract art, but something about this painting he liked. “Can I have this?” he asked, turning it slightly so Lorne could see.

It was worth asking purely for the befuddled look on Lorne’s face. “Umm, sure, sir,” he answered slowly.

John smiled and set it back down. “So, care to share what happened yesterday?”

The major crossed his arms across his chest and leaned up against his desk. “I figured by now you’ve probably heard most of it.”

John flopped down into one of the chairs Lorne had set up. “Yeah, Heightmeyer gave some insight. Said some alien thing was talking to you through your pictures here. But no one ever said exactly what the alien was or what it made you do.”

“It didn’t really make me do anything,” Lorne said, wincing. “Just... Told me it needed help. So I helped it.”

“But what was it, exactly?”

Sitting down across from him, Lorne ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a little hard to explain.” 

“Try me,” John said.

He took a deep breath. “Okay... So theoretically there are tons of different dimensions, right? And in some of those, the laws of physics are different. Like, we live in four dimensions, but they have, say, eight or something. And in this other dimension, there are the places, like cities, except they’re alive, and their consciousnesses are way more complex than anything we can understand. Our brains just aren’t wired to comprehend them. We would go insane if we tried.”

John raised an eyebrow at the “going insane” part, but Lorne ignored him.

“So these cities reproduce by growing a spark of consciousness inside of them for, I don’t know, millennia, before that spark eventually becomes self aware and is released so it can create a body for itself. And so this one city was expecting a child, but they’re fighting a war, so the parent city starts opening portals to other dimensions to find a safe place to put its baby. It just so happens to open one to a world that has the perfect place. An abandoned, silent city.”

“Atlantis,” John supplied, proud that he was actually keeping up with this explanation.

Lorne nodded. “So it puts its child in Atlantis and then goes back to the battle, and closes the portal behind it. And the child grows, still unaware. When we get here, we don’t even notice it, and it doesn’t notice us. So we just live together, sharing the city, totally oblivious to each other.

“But eventually, the child starts to wake up, except its parent isn’t here. It can’t talk to us because we can’t even begin to understand its language, and its scared, doesn’t know what’s happening to it. It’s just a baby. So for whatever reason it talked to me.”

“Through the paintings,” John clarified.

“And the visions,” Lorne added.

John was silent for a minute as he pondered this. “So... baby alien city?” he finally asked.

“Simply put,” Lorne responded.

“And the power surges and the city going crazy...”

“Its version of crying, I guess.” 

“Huh.” Full out tantrum, more like it. “And when you sent that message?”

“So the parent could find its child,” Lorne said. “And it did.”

John nodded slowly, staring into space, trying to imagine living cities. It was definitely one of the weirder things they’d encountered in Pegasus, but he knew better than to doubt it was true, even if he couldn’t really wrap his head around it. And it made perfect sense to him that the thing had picked Lorne to talk to. John didn’t pretend to know a thing about art, but he knew the major saw something in Atlantis that no one else quite understood. 

Shaking off the tangent of thoughts, John gestured to the mosaic on the ceiling. “You know, you’re going to have to clean that up.”

Lorne followed his gaze and grimaced. “Yeah. I know.” 

John stood, adding, “But first, get some sleep. You still look like crap.”

“Thanks, sir,” Lorne answered dryly, also getting up.

Picking up the canvas, John hesitated at the door. “You know,” he said, “if you need a break from painting, you’re always welcome to join me for golf sometime.”

Lorne grinned at him. “I’ll consider that, sir.”

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this one! Hope you enjoyed my interpretation and add-ons for this story. According to the Stargate wiki, this is supposed to take place between Lifeline and Dopplegänger. I think it has some pretty interesting implications for some of the other episodes in season four, so my hope is to write a few more stories exploring those as kind of a series. Keep an eye out for more to come in the future, and as always, thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Minnicoops

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews welcome!


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